


Tiddy Play

by LadyDrace



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clothed Sex, Coming In Pants, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has No Genitalia, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Ken Doll Android Anatomy | Androids Have No Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Light Humiliation, M/M, Nipple Play, POV Hank Anderson, Praise, Temperature Play, Tiddy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: What it says on the tin. Connor plays with Hank's chest. And there's a smidge of D/s and feelings too.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	Tiddy Play

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, but decently well edited.
> 
> Shoutout to my baby Caroline for suggesting I title this thing Breast Fest. :P
> 
> Also a shoutout to Dean, you'll love this.

“You’re beautiful,” Connor says, like that’s something you just say to your saggy old man boyfriend out of nowhere.  
  
  
“You need repairs,” Hank grumbles from the fridge, because while he already knows that Connor finds him very appealing for reasons that still elude him, hearing it brazenly said out loud like that still makes something confused and slightly uncomfortable swirl in his gut. A long life of being informed on a regular basis that he looks either mean or dangerous – sometimes in a hot way, sometimes not – kinda can’t help but leave a mark.

He was just going for water because it’s summer and his air con is being temperamental, but now he reaches for a beer instead. He can’t deal with this sober.

Before he gets the can open, however, Connor’s cool hand is there, pushing the beer down. “I mean it.”

“I know. And I’m a repressed old fart who doesn’t do well with praise, I thought we already established that.”

Connor gives him a long look, and while Hank knows for a fact that android eyes don’t tend to do the whole thing with pupils expanding from arousal or anything, there’s still something in his look that tells Hank that it’s about to get even hotter in here.

He still hates a little bit how it makes his cock twitch to know he’s about to get schooled somehow, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to turn the offer down, _hell no_.

“And _I_ thought we also established that I won’t stop telling you how I feel,” Connor says in a tone of voice any school teacher would be proud of. That patient, vaguely admonishing tone that says _“I can’t help you if you don’t want to improve.”_

Hank wants to argue, but he’s cut off by Connor’s hands pushing gently against Hank’s chest, until he’s up against the kitchen counter. His shirt’s already off, because _summer_ , and Connor’s hands feel wonderfully cool on his overheated skin. That’s clearly not enough for Connor, however, because he reaches for the beer, and slowly makes Hank lift it to his own chest, until it can touch the nearest nipple. The can feels like a spike of ice, and it makes Hank jump, but jesus, combined with the hot air and the way Connor is looking at him it’s like a direct strike of lighting to his dick.

“Fuck,” he sighs, as Connor takes the can from his lax hand, and gently rolls it so the warmer spots are replaced with cold, until Hank’s nipple is so hard it’s getting achy. Then Connor switches to the other one, and Hank can’t help but hiss.

“Look at you. So beautiful,” Connor murmurs, and, god, Hank’s so torn. He doesn’t want to hear this, but he also does, and just as he’s getting to a point where he needs to argue the matter, Connor leans in to suck at the pert, needy nipple he isn’t cooling.

Hank twitches so hard the beer can is jerked away from his other nipple, but Connor recovers fast, and switches from the sides of the can to the thicker bottom for more chill, and Hank has to clutch at the kitchen counter behind him.

“Jesus, Connor-”

Connor just sucks harder, and fuck, maybe Hank has some kind of mild humiliation kink he wasn’t aware of, because while he’s perfectly aware of and comfortable with his sensitive nipples, he’s getting increasingly insecure about how age and lack of care has given his pecs more of a man-boob appearance. But Connor just suckles at them like the saggy meat is the sweetest nectar, and something in Hank’s gut is both very happy and a little _un_ happy about it, which somehow doesn’t kill the mood at all.

A hint of teeth on the tender areola makes Hank gasp and tense up, and Connor makes an appreciative noise. As if to reward Hank for being good, Connor switches to the recently cooled nipple, letting the beer drop into the sink so he doesn’t have to move to look what his hands are doing, as he swirls his tongue and nips his lips. The other side gets some light tweaking, and every pass of Connor’s tongue or fingers sends a pulse downward in a ripple.

Hank’s so hard in his sweats it’s damn near painful just having two layers of soft fabric rubbing on him, but, god, that doesn’t stop his hips from moving, rutting his cock gently against the fly of his boxers.

“You’re doing so good,” Connor whispers, his breath washing over the now wet nub in a shiver of sensation. “So beautiful.”

“Hnn. No,” Hank argues weakly, and Connor clearly takes that personally, pinching both nipples, quick and hard, with both hands.

“Yes.”

The sound Hank makes is frankly embarrassing, but he’s in his own damn house, his own damn cock leaking in his own damn pants, so who gives a fuck.

“One day I’ll show you what I see,” Connor says, pausing between words to go from one nipple to the other for a hard, sucking kiss. “I should connect to your TV. Let you see yourself like this, on a big screen. So beautiful.”

Hank whimpers, and tries to reach down to stroke himself, because christ almighty, that’s both a terrifying and hot as hell prospect. But Connor forces his hand away, back to where it was clutching at the counter, and Hank is helpless to obey.

“I’m not done yet,” Connor says, again with that school teacher tone, and Hank’s _into it_.

Connor’s next move is to just fucking grope Hank’s pecs like they’re firm little tits on some young porn star, and he’s definitely conflicted about that. If only it didn’t feel so _damn good_. Like a deep tissue massage that has a mainline to his balls, especially since Connor makes sure some of the squeezing is centered on those still tender nipples.

“Shit. Connor, do you really- I mean. Fuck, is this… something you’re into?”

“You’re _not_?” Connor asks pointedly, and, well, Hank has a hard time arguing his way out of how his cock is valiantly attempting to burrow through his sweats right now.

“Well, I mean. I- I dunno.”

“Yes you do,” Connor cuts him off, and makes another good point by mashing his smooth pelvic cover up against Hank’s cock, _hard_.

One downside to being sexually involved with an android like Connor is that Hank will likely never get to make him come the way he would with a human partner. That part is mostly forgotten, however, when it comes right down to it, because Connor is _ferocious_ in what he wants, and, for some strange reason, what he _wants_ is to reduce Hank to a shivering puddle of come and sweat several times a week.

“I love it,” he’d said so sincerely, every time Hank had asked, yet again, if Connor was really satisfied with their sex life. “I love it so much,” he’d say, again and again, and then proceed to sex Hank up all over again until he’d forget what words are.

And hell, Connor probably _does_ love it. It sure feels like it, considering Hank can barely take his shirt off in his own house anymore without grabby android hands finding places to grope minutes later. But that doesn’t mean Hank will ever get completely comfortable with how it feels like he gets the long end of the stick in this arrangement.

“Fuck, okay, yes,” Hank gasps, rutting helplessly against the firm plastic through all the fabric. Too much damn fabric. “Yes, I’m into it, damn it.”

“Good boy,” Connor purrs, and sucks one nipple and _then some_ into his mouth, opening wide and slurping like Hank’s chest is a melting ice cream.

Hank moans, embarrassingly high-pitched and shocked, his hand hovering shakily near Connor’s head, because on the one hand he really wants to pull Connor away, but on the other, _jesus_ , he wants more. _So much more_.

“Co-connor. Connor you can’t just- oh _fuck_.”

Connor’s only reply is to moan like _he’s_ the one about to shoot off without a single touch to his dick, and the sound feels like fire on Hank’s skin.

When Connor moves his mouth to the other side, Hank loses the battle, and grabs Connor’s head to push him in harder.

“Ah, fuck!” Hank cries, and Connor allows him to push for more for a few glorious seconds, but then he pries Hank’s hand off. He doesn’t, however, lead it back to the counter. Instead he guides it to Hank’s other nipple, and makes it clear he wants Hank to do some work now too.

“Shit, okay. _Shit_.”

He starts out pinching gently, panting hard and heavy from it too, but Connor clearly has other plans, and stops him. It takes a second before Hank gets what he’s being asked, and he hesitates, because this is really skirting a line he’s uncomfortable with.

“Connor, I… I dunno if-” he tries, but Connor is clearly a man on a mission, and spreads Hank’s fingers out one by one until his hand is starfished across his entire, soft pec. His _tit_ , if he’s being honest. During the whole process Connor never stops his filthy slurping and suckling, and some part of Hank feels like he’ll be depriving Connor of pleasure if he doesn’t play along. So he does what he’s told, and _squeezes_ himself.

The motions aren’t unfamiliar. He’s been with women in the past. He’s also been with men, and enjoyed some chest play, but he’s never been on this side of it, and he’s prepared for it to not feel like much of anything. It’s just loose skin, what could it possibly-

Turns out it can make him feel incredibly filthy, and _that_ sure as hell does it for him.

His brain is a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions, the dominant of which whispering that he’s being a real slut right now, groping his sad, wrinkly tits just because he’s told to, and because he’s too horny to hold himself back. Not only is it news to him that he’s into stuff like that, there’s also just the fact that it feels… kinda good in itself.

He moans, loud and dazed as Connor works one pec with his mouth and Hank kneads the other with his own hand, swaying on his feet even with his other hand white-knuckling on the counter behind him.

“ _Connor_ ,” he whimpers, and Connor lets go of Hank’s tortured tit with an obscene sound.

“Beautiful,” he whispers again, and Hank can’t fucking look, he can only squeeze his eyes shut as Connor pries Hank’s other hand loose and guides it to his chest as well.

He’s gonna come like this. He’s gonna _come_ , in his damn kitchen, half dressed and moaning like a porn star, groping his own tits and discovering at least five new kinks he didn’t know he had.

“Yes, like that. Good boy. Play with yourself. So beautiful,” Connor mutters, every word like a slap to the dick, and Hank can feel it, he can feel it building, tingling and pulling at his balls. And when Connor moves in close for a kiss, finally giving Hank back that unyielding bump to frot against, Hank comes, fists clenching painfully around his own flesh and leaving fingershaped bruises on his tits.

He whimpers and shakes and keeps groping himself until the last, pitiful spurt leaves him, and Connor gently peels his hands off his sweaty chest.

Hank heaves in breath after breath, afraid to open his eyes and face a world where he’s clearly more slutty than he every imagined, but Connor is right there, kissing his cheeks and petting his tender, abused chest with cool fingers.

“You did so well, Hank. You’re so good, so beautiful, I love you so much.”

When he finally dares open his eyes, all he sees is Connor, looking for all the world like _he’s_ the one who just had a sexual revelation, his eyes fire on Hank’s heated skin, his thigh muscles jumping like he’s also having a hard time staying upright, and fuck it all, it was mutual pleasure, there’s literally nothing in the world wrong with that.

“Fuck I love you too, you weirdo,” he grunts, but Connor sees his shaky smile and hears the adoration behind the light deflection, because Connor _know_ _s_ him. Knows him better than he knows himself if the last fifteen minutes or so is any indication.

“Beautiful,” Connor just says again, and Hank can only nod. He’s lost this one.

End.


End file.
